


The Prince of Tide (and other cleaning products)

by Aramise



Category: Scandal in the Spotlight (Video Game)
Genre: Fluff and Crack, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-18
Updated: 2020-04-18
Packaged: 2021-03-02 02:41:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,555
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23718358
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aramise/pseuds/Aramise
Summary: The boys have recently moved in together, but Iori is used to having someone else do his cleaning and laundry for him. It's his birthday, and Ryo and Takashi have a little surprise for him.
Comments: 1
Kudos: 5





	The Prince of Tide (and other cleaning products)

**The Prince of Tide (and other cleaning products)**

**Aramise**

“Ryo, do you know where the clean cups are? I bought another 6 last week, and I still can’t find any.”

“Ryo, do you know when my shirts will be back from the laundry?”

“Ryo, someone has left the bathroom floor soaking wet again! That’s the fourth time this week!”

“Ryo, why aren’t there any clean towels?”

“Ryo, have you seen my light blue t-shirt? I left it drying in the laundry room, but it’s vanished.”

“Ryo, why are my socks purple?”

“Ryo, has anyone fed Little Yamada?”

“Ryo, we’re out of soda _again_.”

Ryo set his pen down for the umpteenth time today, and tried not to glare. “Okay, leave it with me. I’ll get it sorted out.” He padded barefoot down to the kitchen and sighed. The sink was full of dirty crockery, the cooker needing cleaning and there was sauce all over the breakfast bar. It had, he remembered, been Iori’s turn to make breakfast this morning. Well, at least he’d done that much… In the months since the band had all moved into the studio house, Iori had proved less than…. reliable when it came to cleaning and so forth. Ryo tried to cut the guy some slack: this was all new to Iori, after all, and the latter was used to having a housekeeper to cook and clean and do his laundry. Living communally must be a considerable shock. But… On days like this, with four sets of lyrics to finish, groceries to collect and the dog needing a long walk, Ryo could wish that Iori was just a shade more practical.

Or more observant. He thumped a pan into the soapy water and suppressed a sigh. The five performing members of Revance had enough to do already. It really wasn’t unreasonable for Ryo himself to do rather more around the house. Things would settle down. Most of the band were pretty good about remembering to check the rota Kyohei had posted on the fridge door, and about doing their share of the chores. Iori would come round… And, in the meantime, he, Ryo, should probably check Iori’s room for used cups and garments in need of washing and…

Takashi came into the kitchen and opened the fridge. He took out the carton of juice and reached for a glass. “Huh. Someone put it away empty again. Is there any more, Ryo?”

“Laundry room,” said Ryo, with more of a snap in his voice than he intended.

Taka looked at him curiously. “Everything all right?”

“Just fine.”

“Hmm.” Taka considered. “Isn’t it Iori’s turn for the dishes today, though? You owe me several sets of lyrics.”

“I am working on them,” Ryo said, through gritted teeth.

“But…” said Takashi, and shut up hastily as Ryo turned to look at him. “Ryo, are you sure you’re okay?”

Ryo wanted, very badly, to yell. He drew in a long breath, reminded himself that none of this was Taka’s fault (probably), and set the bowl he was holding down very carefully on the counter top. Takashi considered him in silence. And then, “Iori?”

“ **Yes**.”

“I thought so. I have an idea about that. You go and sit down, while I finish the dishes and tell you about it.

\--#--

“Happy birthday, dear Iori, happy birthday to you…”

As the last notes of the birthday song subsided, (and Little Yamada stopped barking), Ryo brought in a freshly-baked cake, decorated with candles, and set it down in front of Iori. “It’s from Larme. The owner said this one was your favourite.”

“It looks awesome!” Nagito said. “Hurry up and blow the candles out, Iori, so we can eat it!”

It was Iori’s second birthday since he’d joined Revance, and the first since they moved into the studio house together. Last year, his father had made him go out for a fancy meal with an important client, and used it to try and manipulate him into leaving the band. There had been another invitation this year: he had simply ignored it. He had been unsure about a studio-house party, too, but the rest of the guys had overruled him. “You’re one of us. And yours is the first birthday since we moved in here when we’ve been home. You get a party,” had said Kyohei, and that was that.

He had assumed it would be snacks and beer – maybe a bottle of wine. Instead, Kyo, Kota and Nagi had decorated the living room, Taka had put together a playlist and brought one of his keyboards downstairs, and Ryo had spent the last day and a half making a vast assortment of snacks and treats. “And only set off the smoke alarm once,” observed Kota.

“I thought of the words for the next verse,” Ryo said, mildly. “I guess I forgot about my baking.”

“Your cooking’s great whatever happens,” Nagi put in.

Now, Iori blew out his candles – all in one breath, which was testimony to vocal training, he supposed.

Nagi said, “You did make a wish, didn’t you? What did you wish for?”

“If I tell you, it won’t come true.”

“Let’s cut the cake,” said Ryo, and handed a cake slice to Iori. “You get first piece.”

“We should feed it to him,” Nagi said.

“No!” Iori pushed Nagito’s hand away, firmly, and began to cut the cake into neat slices. “I’m not six and you’re not my girlfriend. I can feed myself perfectly well.” He made a point of handing out slices to everyone else before Nagito, just to underline the statement.

Cake was followed by gifts: a new, hand-tailored shirt from Nagi, a rare limited edition DVD of a classic Italian movie from Kota, a rather pointed book on image management from Kyohei, and books and music from Ryo and Takashi. Taka’s playlist had been running in the background while they ate, but now he rose and went to the keyboard, beginning to play a lilting melody. “That’s rather good,” Kyohei said. “Is it a new song?”

“It is. It’s another gift for Iori, from Ryo and me,” and Takashi began to sing. Little Yamada gave another wuff, then settled at Kyohei’s feet. The first verse was a ballad about a prince leaving home on a quest and finding a whole new world, very much the sort of thing Revance might include as an album track or a bonus.

“All the Prince Iori fans will go nuts for this,” Kyohei whispered, “and it’s in a good key for your voice, too. It’ll make for a great solo spot on the next tour.”

Iori nodded. The second verse began. His brows drew in at the first line. Hadn’t it been ‘handsome prince’, not ‘household prince’ in the previous part? “The magic kingdom’s left behind,” sang Taka, “and all its luxuries. No cleaning fairies run the house…” (at this point Nagi began to giggle) “At home, his clothes all washed themselves: that magic now had died. You need to wash them by yourself -- use cycle number five.” (Kyohei began to smirk, too and even Kota’s poker face was showing signs of cracking.) “And please stop buying extra cups – if you want one that’s clean, just go and do the washing-up and get in a routine.”

(“I do not keep buying extra cups,” Iori protested. “You kind of do,” said Ryo.)

“The household prince is very bright and quick in every class. He needs to study sweeping floors and how to scrub the bath.”

(“Hey!” said Iori, sharply. “I am **not** a slob.”)

“And how to pick up for himself, and not use all the towels.”

(“Oh, he really does that,” Kota said. “Three times last week! And he drops them on the bathroom floor. And he keeps borrowing all my t-shirts.”)

Takashi went on singing, face innocent, eyes fixed on the keyboard, as the lyrics went on to encompass just how to clean the kitchen.,(“Soap and water, a clean cloth and nothing that will scratch.”) use the washing machine, “Nagi’s great at removing stains, but even he could not get the purple spotting out of Kyo’s favourite socks.”), do the dishes (“I do not leave that for Ryo every time,” Iori protested. “No,” Nagito conceded. “Sometimes you leave it for me.”) and clean up after he cooked. (“At least what I cook is edible, unlike some people.” “It’s not bad, I suppose. A bit basic, though,” said Kyohei. “Yeah, and you overcook the eggs every time,” added Kota.)

“Dear household prince, we all love you, but what I sing is true. The cleaning rota’s on the fridge, and lists what you should do. So please don’t trigger Typhoon Ryo…” (“Hey,” Ryo said, “I did not write that!”) “If you’re wondering where Godzilla went, he really made him mad.”

(“My temper is not that bad,” Ryo protested. “It kind of is,” Kyohei said. “Remember that time you tipped a jug of water over me?” “I’d told you to cool down. You didn’t listen.”)

“But happy birthday, household prince. We’ve one more gift for you: Nagi’ll teach you how to clean, tomorrow afternoon.” Takashi stopped singing, though he went on playing, and turned to face the rest of them. Speaking in time with the music, he added, “And P.S., Kyo, please stop walking round the house naked.”


End file.
